


The Real Housewolves of Beacon Hills

by Stardreamt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 06:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardreamt/pseuds/Stardreamt
Summary: Peter Hale lives for the drama while Jordan Parrish falls in love with Marcus Kane





	The Real Housewolves of Beacon Hills

Peter Hale.   
That was the name of the one, the only, the main hoe. He was Alpha Housewolf and everyone in this town knew it. He dominated the streets with his superior fashion and he could seduce his way into anyone’s bed. He had a certain way with words that could make anyone’s day better. Peter was just that kind of person.  
But drama was coming for Beacon Hills.

It was late winter when We Were Staying In Parrish arrived. He was a different sort of Housewolf. He wasn’t even a wolf. He was a fire dog, a hellhound. He was all passion and flame, not like Peter, the smooth seductress. We Were Staying In Parrish was definitely going to be a problem.

Peter was walking down the sidewalk, his hot tea in his hand. He could smell trouble in the air. Drama always had this static electricity feeling in his bones. He could hear gossip from miles away, could see drama even with his eyes closed. He was the Drama Queen, XOXO Gossip Girl, Supertea. Peter Hale was ready to show this newcomer who was true drama alpha in this town. Peter was ready to defend his territory.

We Were Staying In Parrish was walking down the same sidewalk, his iced coffee in his hand. WWSP (pronounced wasp), as his friends called him, knew something was off. He knew he shouldn’t be here, should probably leave this town, but something else was drawing him. Something else? No. Someone else. A name had been flooding his mind the entire week, drawing him towards Beacon Hills.  
The name that was pulling on his every nerve. Marcus Kane.

Peter rolled his shoulders, the drama getting deep into his muscle and bone. He could feel the newcomer getting closer.

We Were Staying in Parrish couldn’t unclench his fists. He could feel trouble coming, trouble that would come between him and Marcus Kane. This wouldn’t do.

Peter was very close now. He could already feel the drama taking over him. He didn’t want to battle, but if he had to, he would. For his town, for his reputation, Peter Hale would cause a scene.  
“You!” he yelled as the newcomer approached.  
“You!” the newcomer yelled back.  
Peter lifted his chin. “What are you doing walking these streets. This is my turf, new boy. Get your own.”  
“I’m looking for someone,” the newcomer said, “so if you’ll get out of my way.”  
“Listen here, whore. I know everyone in town and I also happen to know that no one would be waiting for some strange-looking, jorts-wearing, shirtless man baby.”  
The newcomer put his free hand on his jorted hip. “My name isn’t whore, you wet noodle. My name is We Were Staying In Parrish and you can swag off.”  
Peter cocked his head like a predator. “So you want to come to me, to my face and use those words that you call a name and think it’s okay to call me a wet noodle?”   
“I sure do and I sure did.”  
Peter threw his hot tea in We Were Staying In Parrish’s face. “Heck you!”  
We Were Staying In Parrish gasped, wiping the drink from his face. “You poopy dirt-eater!”  
Peter pushed past him, bumping him and sashaying away.

We Were Staying In Parrish was defeated. He had lost the battle. He wanted to be petty and spiteful, but Marcus Kane was still calling to him. He couldn’t shake that name. He knew he needed to find whoever this was or he’d lose his mind.  
He took the bus to the closest coffee shop. He’d heard a few locals talking about tough times with the owners. He didn’t ask, but he was more than curious. A tall man in full leather gave him his order, saying enjoy in a sad voice.  
“Is something wrong?” WWSP asked.  
The man shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand. “It’s personal.”  
But WWSP was a true connoisseur of gossip. “You can tell me. I don’t even live in this town. Who am I to tell?”  
‘Fair enough,” the man said, sitting in the booth across from WWSP. “It’s my husband. He’s having an affair.”  
WWSP sat forward. “That’s tough, dude.”  
“You wanna know the worst part?” he whispered in pure horror.  
WWSP leaned forward even more.  
The man closed his eyes. “I kind of ship it.”  
WWSP gasped. “No.”  
The man nodded. “Yes. He’s with a woman who we’ve known forever and she’s great and they’re great for eachother and I just don’t know where I fit anymore. I only know that they’re perfect for eachother.”  
“Wow, man,” WWSP said. “Have you guys talked it out.”  
“So many times. They think I need to find love again.”  
“You can do it, buddy.”  
The man nodded. “Thanks. My name’s Derek by the way. Enjoy your mocha latte cappuccino mocha mocha green tea vanilla pumpkin spice coffee bean latte mocha hot chocolate espresso mocha macchiato.”  
“I will. Don’t get too down my pal.”

Meanwhile, Peter was still reeling from his encounter with the jort man. What kind of loser was he and how would Peter get rid of him?  
He knew just the thing.

WWSP’s search for Marcus Kane was getting him nowhere. He’d asked Derek about the name before he left the coffee shop. Derek didn’t know a Marcus Kane, but he hadn’t got out since his divorce.  
His next stop had to be the library to find public records, but when he pulled up, 96 motorcycles were parked out front. He skipped out on the library, going directly to the police station.  
“Hello? Can anyone help me find someone?” WWSP asked the room full of cops.  
“I can help,” a man with a nice man face said.  
WWSP smiled. “Thank you, sir.”  
The man nodded. “I’m Sheriff Stilinski. Now who are you looking for?”  
“A man named Marcus Kane.”  
“Hm,” the sheriff said, “don’t think I’ve heard that name in a while. He was here years ago with his daughter and granddaughter. It was a small kidnapping case that got resolved pretty easily. I think Kane stayed here, but I don’t really have any records of him.”  
“Do you know where he could be?”  
The sheriff nodded. “Try the hair salon.”  
So WWSP left in a rush, zooming to the salon. He was in luck. It was open. He opened the door, the bell ringing. Inside were little old ladies with curlers in their hair and one singular tall tumblr girl with a half up bun. WWSP could feel it. He could feel Marcus Kane’s essence in this place.  
“Excuse me,” he said, “is there a Marcus Kane here?”  
The tumblr girl turned around revealing not a girl at all, but a 100% real man. “I’m Marcus Kane.” His voice was like a smooth buffalo.  
“Woah,” WWSP said softly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”  
“You must be We Were Staying In Parrish.”  
WWSP gasped. “You know me?!?”  
Marcus nodded. “You’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you ever since my daughter Clarke took her daughter away from this town. I heard your name in my head and knew I had to stay behind.”  
“I’m in love with you.”  
“As am I.”  
They shared a passionate kiss and the little old ladies cheered.

Peter had his supplies. He knew what he had to do. In one hand he had a potted cactus and in the other he had a pair of old jorts. He had a duffle bag filled with eggs. He was ready.  
He hopped into his golf cart and drove to the salon. His drama bones told him that was where that bad boy was.   
The salon doors were open. Inside was that man. Peter stuffed the cactus into the jorts and placed eggs into the pockets and threw it into the salon. He dropped behind his golf cart. The explosion was big enough to kill 19 elephants. Peter knew he’d killed the entire salon. He didn’t care. He stood up, brushing off his normal jeans (not jorts) and climbed into his golf cart.   
But Peter was highly mistaken.  
Out of the flames and debris, We Were Staying In Parrish emerged, holding Marcus Kane’s hand.  
“I’M A HELLHOUND, LOSER BOY,” We Were Staying In Parrish yelled. “AND MARCUS HERE CAN’T DIE. HE’S PROTECTED BY TWO STRANGE SISTERS.”  
Peter screamed in frustration. “You’ve made me get the big guns now, sir.”  
Peter yodeled as loud as his lungs could work. Within seconds the 96 biker gang members zoomed in and behind them, Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin zoomed in, Lydia carrying Stiles because she’s a vampire and really fast and strong. Behind them came Melissa Mccall and Christopher Argent. They were wielding their love as a weapon. And lastly, Sheriff Stilinski drove in with Derek Hale.  
“MAKE ONE MORE MOVE AND WE WILL DESTROY YOU,” the entire crowd said in complete unison.  
We Were Staying In Parrish looked to Marcus in fear and defeat.   
“Let’s go, darling. We can just live in Arkadia,” Marcus said.  
We Were Staying In Parrish let a single tear fall down his cheek. “Okay.”  
And so WWSP and Marcus Kane himself left Beacon Hills for eternity and Peter Hale remained Alpha Housewolf and was never questioned again.


End file.
